


Swapped

by TiedyedTrickster



Series: Geta!verse [15]
Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball
Genre: Bulma is awesome, Gen, Hints of backstory, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort-of, and seriously does not have self-esteem issues, at all, but then it became awesome and plot-relevant, get-together!, look it's a start, random details made use of, saiyan physiology, science - DBZ style!, seriously have you met her?, shippers you may now rejoice, sorry yamcha, this wasn't originally going to be part of the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5403203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiedyedTrickster/pseuds/TiedyedTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The typical explanation for weird stuff occurring in the DBZ fandom is ‘Trunks and Goten happened.’ This time it was Bulma, and Raditz and Yamcha are really wishing it hadn't been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ka-freaking-boom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, it’s got more than two chapters, oh god oh god oh god-
> 
> Also, Bulma has established a lab in the jungle now – it’s three clearings over from Geta’s house (because Geta’s house WILL NOT survive an explosion if push comes to shove, so they changed the location from the original one they planned to use), and it’s not as awesome as her lab in Capsule Corp, but it’s good enough to get most of her mad sciencing done while she’s out there. Raditz and Kakarrot have been on Earth for four months.

Raditz groaned and rubbed his head, brushing hair out of his eyes with the same motion. Making a mental note to wear his armor next time he offered to help Bulma in her lab, he looked around for the blue-haired scientist/menace, squinting a bit as he did. Everything looked… different. Bigger. The details of the far corners of the room weren’t snapping into place like they normally did. And his hair kept falling in his face, which normally only happened when it was soaking wet, which it most certainly was not at this moment in time. Groaning again, he pushed himself up and looked around. To his immediate left, Yamcha was sitting up and shaking his head, his wavy hair floofed out to twice its normal size, probably from the explosion.

“Bulma?” the ex-bandit croaked, sounding as bad as Raditz felt, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” a pile of rubble shifted and the blue-haired woman appeared, a thin bubble of energy hovering an inch or two around her form. “On the plus side, the automatic ki shield seems to work! On the downside, the matter transmuter seems to have consumed itself in a fiery death ball – I’ll have to account for that in the next model.”

“…yeah, you do that.” Yamcha coughed and stretched. “And next time you want someone to help with heavy lifting/safety, ask Geta – he’s less breakable than me.”

“Oh, quit whining, you’ll heal,” deactivating her shield, Bulma made her way over to her friends, “And, hey, we finally figured out how to make saiyan hair go flat – stick ‘em in an explosion!”

“What?” the saiyan in question’s hand flew to his head again. It was true – his hair was lying smooth against his scalp – the bits that weren’t falling in his face, that was. It felt… odd. “This had better be temporary!”

Bulma shrugged. “No promises.” She eyed him critically as the saiyan groaned. “Wow, you actually look smaller with it all flat like that.”

Raditz grunted and staggered to his feet. The explosion must have thrown off his inner ear, because he could barely keep his footing as he staggered the few feet to Yamcha and offered him a hand up.

“Thanks.” The other man accepted gratefully and Raditz pulled him to his feet-

-and froze.

They were staring at each other eye to eye. Which was impossible, because Raditz was a foot taller than Yamcha.

“Huh. Well. That… really should not have happened.”

The two men ignored Bulma, staring at each other.

“In fact,” Bulma continued, undeterred, “I wouldn’t have thought that _could_ happen.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You guys… _have_ noticed that Yamcha’s grown a tail, right?”

“WHAT?!?” the ex-bandit spun around, trying to get a glimpse of the aforementioned limb and only succeeded in smacking Raditz with it. Raditz yelped and grabbed the tail on instinct, whereupon Yamcha made a strangled noise and fell over. Raditz misjudged his own balance and got dragged after him.

“…and Raditz seems to have lost his. And we’re going to have to get him some new pants, because those are too big for him now. Plus, I can see your butt through the tail hole.”

“BULMA!” Raditz howled, blushing scarlet and pushing himself backwards off Yamcha, trying to hide his posterior with his hair and find out where his tail had gone at the same time.

“Before you guys flip out much more, I would like to point out that, in my defence, I was trying to turn regular iron into meteoric iron – there is no possible way this should have happened.” Bulma looked at the expressions her companions wore and manually reactivated her shield.

“Bulma?”

All three turned to the doorway to see Geta poking his head in, eyes wide. “I heard the explosion half a mile away and I- wow. The hell happened to you two?”

“Geta! Excellent timing!” Bulma hurried over. “You’re just in time to prevent a murder!”

Geta blinked. “A murder? Whose?”

“Mine.” Hooking an arm around his shoulders, she steered him out the door while Yamcha was still blinking at the floor and Raditz was frozen with embarrassment. “We’re going to go over to my lab at Capsule Corp, it’s bigger and less blown up. Meet you two there once you’ve calmed down!” she called through the doorway before hopping on Geta’s back. “Start flying and I’ll explain on the way!”

The two men stared at the doorway for a moment, blinking.

“Well,” Yamcha finally broke the silence, his voice slightly strangled, “I’ve always known hanging out with Bulma was dangerous. I just… never thought something like _this_ was a possibility.”

Raditz nodded, feeling slightly numb. No, not numb – muffled. Sounds were quieter, scents were barely there, and he got the distinct impression that he wasn’t going to be able to see clearly for nearly as far as he usually could when they got outside. The scent was the most irksome loss at the moment, though – he couldn’t even smell Yamcha, who was right next to him - it was like someone had turned his nose off. Impulsively, he leaned over and sniffed the ex-bandit, getting his nose in close to the other man’s neck. There it was – very faint and slightly different, but unmistakeably there, the familiar scent. He sat back again, relieved he hadn’t lost the sense entirely.

Yamcha, for his part, was staring at him, cheeks light pink and eyes large, tail twitching behind him slightly in agitation. “Uh… any particular reason for that?”

Conscious knowledge of what he had just done hit Raditz like a brick, and his cheeks, which had finally been going back to their usual hue, decided to return to their scarlet status and he swore. “Karn’s _second_! No, I-” he buried his face in his hands, “My sense of smell, it’s almost gone. Scent’s important for saiyans, and- I couldn’t smell you anymore. I can’t now, not with you so far away. It’s weird. I wanted to make sure I still could.”

“Oh.” Shaking his head slightly, Yamcha stood again, offering a hand to Raditz. “Come on – tighten your sash and we can probably find a spare lab coat or something for you to tie around your waist until you can get some new pants.”

Raditz stood, wobbling slightly as he tried to adjust to not having a tail. He’d have thought it would be easy enough to do – he often fought with his tail wrapped around his waist, and his balance was just fine then – but apparently having the tail completely gone made a big difference. “How are you managing to stay so calm about all this?”

“I’m not,” Yamcha said with apparent good cheer, though now that he admitted to it the slightly panicked glint in his eyes was more noticeable, “I’m utterly terrified on the inside, not to mention mad as hell at Bulma. But if I kill her, she can’t fix us, and that would be a problem. Besides, like I said, I’ve always known she was dangerous to hang out with, though I’ll admit I thought it was because she was going to get me killed one day, not mutated. How about you – you seem to be handling this okay?” He smiled and his tail came forward and wrapped around Raditz’s wrist as he moved closer again.

The usually taller man gulped at this, but managed to keep his voice steady. “I’m fine,” he said shortly, “Now let go. It’s not- please let go.”

“Um,” Yamcha blinked, staring at his tail, “I’m not sure how I- give me a moment.”

The ex-bandit closed his eyes and Raditz watched as the other man concentrated. At first, nothing happened. Then Raditz winced as the grip on his wrist tightened briefly before the tail slipped away.

Yamcha grabbed the unruly appendage, jumping a bit as he did so. “That feels… really weird. Anyway, what’s up? Did I break a rule or something?”

“Yes.” Raditz responded shortly, uncomfortable, and unwilling to explain further than that for once. You didn’t touch other people with your tail – you just _didn’t_ , not unless they were family… or your mate. Abruptly, he turned to go dig through the rubble for the closet where Bulma kept her lab coats and other safety gear.

Surprised at Raditz’s reaction, Yamcha let go of his tail, which swung behind him, apparently content to behave now that Raditz was out of range. “Okay, I’ll do my best to keep it to myself, then. And, you know, keep my distance until I can control it.”

“You think you’ll have it that long?” Raditz didn’t turn to look at the other man as he unearthed the desired article of clothing and tied it around his waist. Yamcha snorted.

“Yes. Because however it was that whatever happened did, I want to be damn sure Bulma knows _exactly_ what she’s doing when she reverses it! And that’s going to take time to figure out, even for her. Come on, let’s go see if she’s managed to learn anything yet.”

Raditz nodded and, for the first time since the explosion, checked his ki reserves. They were the same as they had been before. Tension he hadn’t even realised was there flowed out of him. He’d thought, maybe- but it didn’t matter. Somehow, knowing he could still fight, that he still had the power he’d worked so hard to attain, made things a little better and easier to bear. Turning back to Yamcha, he managed a faint smirk.

“It’s strawberries that blue-haired menace loves, yes?”

“Yeah,” Yamcha nodded, confused, “Why?”

Raditz’s eyes gleamed. “I was just thinking, before we go to visit _her_ , we should visit her kitchen. I’m a little hungry.”

A grin of understanding blossomed on the ex-bandit’s face. “You know, I think a good meal is the least of what she owes us at this point.”

Smirking at each other, the two men walked out of the destroyed lab and took off, heading towards Capsule Corp.

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

“Well, it certainly took you long enough to get here,” Bulma groused as the two long-haired men finally joined her in the lab, “I’ve only been getting things set up to _fix_ all this for **hou-** Yams, what are you eating?”

“Jam,” he responded, licking his spoon before sticking it back in the jar and scooping up more, “Geta flies faster than we do, so of course it took us longer to get here. Also, we stopped by your kitchen for a snack.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “A snack.”

Raditz shrugged. “We were hungry.”

“Getting mad-scienced apparently does things to a guy’s appetite,” Yamcha leaned against a counter and had another spoonful of jam. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry before.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t think I’ve ever eaten _less_.” Raditz glared at his stomach, then at Bulma. “Figure out what you did to us and how to fix it – this can **not** be healthy for a saiyan!”

“Yeah, what _did_ happen?”

Both men jumped as Geta popped out from behind a large machine, wearing safety goggles and a labcoat.

“Someone needs to put a bell on you,” Yamcha frowned at him.

Geta brightened up. “Bulma tried that, once!”

“Oh?” Yamcha turned to her, “How’d that work out?”

“It didn’t,” Bulma glared at the short saiyan.

“Why not?”

“ ‘cause I took it off again.” Geta responded cheerfully, “I’m honestly a little surprised that it didn’t occur to her that I’d do that.”

“I thought you’d have the courtesy to leave it on!”

“Are you crazy?” he gave her a disbelieving look, “It felt like it was going to make my ears bleed!”

“How would you have known, you left it on for all of two minutes!”

“More than long enough to confirm my suspicions! Anyway,” pushing his goggles up, he looked between the two other men, “What happened? Bulma has refused to tell me anything.”

“Her newest foray into meddling with the natural laws blew up, and while she was protected by that shielding device she created, we weren’t,” Raditz glowered at the scientist in question, who simply flipped her hair, unphased.

“Her latest- you mean the ‘Suck It, Alchemy’ ray?”

Yamcha snorted at the name, but Raditz nodded.

“HA!” Geta spun to face Bulma, one finger pointing triumphantly, “You owe me twenty zeni, I _told_ you that thing was calibrated wrong!”

“Oh, forgive me for doubting the word of a dinosaur butcher with no formal education.” Bulma rolled her eyes and went to take a hair each from Raditz and Yamcha, along with a flake of skin.

“And coconut salesman,” Geta hopped up to perch on the counter near Yamcha, tail swinging cheerfully behind him under his lab coat, “They are a big source of my income. And I’m good at math – math’s _easy_ to learn from books! If we were talking about history, now, that’s different – there’s just so much of it, and everyone disagrees about it, so it gets tricky. Anyway, that’s the physical alterations explained. How come you guys smell like strawberries?”

Bulma halted in her placement of the slides the skin flakes were on into the machine, having already set the hairs processing. “What?”

“Strawberries,” Geta repeated, swinging his legs, “They both smell like strawberries.”

“I- uh- shit.” Bulma blinked, then got a concerned look on her face. “I don’t know. I- hopefully it’s not-” she stopped as Yamcha and Raditz started snickering.

“I told you, we had a snack.” Yamcha smirked and turned his jam jar so she could see the label. Or, more specifically, the little picture of strawberries on the label. “By the way, that strawberry pie your mom makes? Still delicious.”

“So were the fresh strawberries,” Raditz added.

“And I don’t usually eat jam out of a jar, but I’ll admit, it’s kinda growing on me.”

Geta laughed and Bulma fumed for a moment, then sighed. “This is revenge for mutating you, isn’t it? Eating all my favorite foods.”

“Ohhh~ yes.” Yamcha nodded.

“Part of it,” Raditz elaborated, “You didn’t have as much strawberry stuff as we thought you would, and we were hungry.”

“I guess I deserved that,” the blue-haired scientist sulked, “But I reserve the right to be grumpy about it anyway – I was looking forward to that pie!”

“Fair enough. What’s the machine doing, anyway?” Yamcha came to look over her shoulder at the computer screen.

“It’s examining your DNA,” Bulma explained, snatching for the jam jar and missing, “Keep that away from the console, would you? Anyway, I’m running a four-way comparison between your and Raditz’s DNA as it is now and how it was about a month ago to check for anomalies, similarities, stuff like that. Once I know what’s changed and to what extent, I can figure out what needs to be done to fix it.”

“That sounds reasonab- wait a moment,” Yamcha narrowed his eyes at her, “Why did you just happen to have our old DNA lying around to use for this?”

Bulma gave his a distinctly unimpressed look. “In case of situations like this, obviously. Also to compare saiyan DNA to human to see the differences, and to compare yours to other humans’, Yams, to see if everyone has the potential to obtain abilities like yours or if you’re some sort of freak. Really, the better question would be why _wouldn’t_ I have your DNA lying around, not to mention why it took me so long to think to acquire some! I mean, just think – if I’d done this earlier, we’d have found out Geta was an alien well over a year ago!”

The three males considered each other and Bulma for a moment. By some silent consensus it was Yamcha who spoke.

“You’re not normal, Bulma.”

“Of course I’m not,” Bulma tossed her hair, “I’m _superior_! Now quit bothering me, I need to focus on these readings.”

There was quiet for a few moments, aside from the sound of Bulma typing and Yamcha’s spoon scraping the bottom of the jar. Licking the spoon off, he peered into the jar in disappointment, then set the empty vessel down and turned to Geta to distract himself from his stomach, which was demanding more food in spite of having already been fed more than he usually ate in two meals.

“So, what’s with the scientist clothes? You helping Bulma out or did she just decide to dress you up?”

Geta shrugged. “I’m figuring out how to build engines – all Raditz and Bulma’s conspiring over the Frag got me curious – and Bulma said that if I’m going to do work in her lab, I have to dress for it.”

“Engine?” Raditz, who had been content to let the Earthlings do the talking while trying in vain to get his newly-floppy hair to stay out of his eyes, now took an interest in the conversation. “What kind?”

“An old motorbike one – come see!” Geta vaulted off the counter and led them to where he’d been working, hands in his pockets. On a table further into the lab lay a mostly disassembled motor.

“So, Bulma’s teaching you about mechanics?” Yamcha asked. He knew a little about machines – enough to keep his Jet Squirrel running – but his interests really ran more towards martial arts.

“I’m teaching myself, she’s just letting me work here for now, when I want to.” He wrinkled his nose, “Actually, she says I _have_ to work on it here if I want her help – get me more used to being in the city and around unfamiliar ki signatures.”

“Smart woman,” Yamcha grinned and looked at the table again. “So… you’re just taking it apart to see how it works, I guess?”

“Yeah!” pulling his goggles back down (because, ridiculous levels of ki or not, getting squirted in the eye with motor oil was always an unpleasant experience), he twisted a bolt off with his fingers.

Raditz leaned forward to look at the engine, holding his hair out of his face. “That’s how I learned, too – on the go, with the Frag’s repairs.”

“You learned how to repair a spaceship you were _flying_ at the time by taking it apart?” Yamcha gaped at him.

Raditz grinned. “More like desperately reverse-engineering the exploded bits while Kakarrot searched for a manual. That was a fun day.”

“You didn’t know where it was?!”

The saiyan shrugged, then growled as his hair slipped and fell in his face _again_. It was possibly the most pitiful growl of his life. “I was nine at the time.” reaching behind him, he tore off a strip of lab coat and used it as a make-shift bandana to pull his hair back. Stupid bangs – they hadn’t been this obnoxious when he was a brat! Then again, they also hadn’t been this floppy… “And I’d been trained as a warrior. It never occurred to me that you needed to do anything to ships other than put fuel in them from time to time.”

“Oh.” The ex-bandit rubbed his neck. “I guess that was pretty impressive, then.”

Raditz blinked at the newly-tailed human, still unused to praise. “Uh, yeah. It was.” Cheeks pink, he turned back to the engine, where Geta had paused in his work to look at him.

“Wait a moment, if you were nine when all that happened, that means Kakarrot was only one!”

“Yeah. So?”

“You had a _one-year-old_ looking for the maintenance manual for a spaceship?! How was that any help at all?!”

Raditz shrugged. “Well, he couldn’t read yet, but he could recognise patterns and knew what data discs looked like. I wrote ‘engine’ on his arm with grease and sent him to find a disc with a label that looked like that.”

The other males were staring at him at this point. “And he could _do_ that?”

“Oh course he could,” Raditz gave them an odd look. “Why, isn’t that how human babies work?”

“Human babies can’t even _talk_ until they’re a bit past a year old, and have maybe begun to master walking by then. You can’t send them on errands to find data discs or anything!”

Yamcha and Raditz both stared at Geta. Yamcha spoke. “How do _you_ know that?”

The short saiyan shrugged. “There was a book on child development in the village library.”

Raditz snorted. “Saiyan babies can move freely within a few weeks of birth, and develop conscious thought very quickly. I’ve heard some saiyans remembered as far back as the day after they were born.”

“That’s… really not normal.” Yamcha said.

“It’s normal for saiyans.”

“…I’m siding with Yamcha on this one, actually.”

“ _You’re_ not normal for a saiyan, either,” Raditz groaned at Geta’s comment.

“Raditz, be fair,” Yamcha chided, “Geta’s not normal for _anyone_.”

“…I’m not going to argue with you on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who have read my fic Captured may remember me saying how sometimes I just really want Yamcha to have a tail.
> 
> …
> 
> …yeah, that wasn’t the first time… >_>
> 
> Saiyan senses are more acute than human ones, which is why everything looks strange to Raditz – his senses have been dulled. As a kid, Goku says that his nose is as sharp as a dog’s, and, given how sharp dogs’ noses are, I tend to picture saiyans as relying on scent nearly as much as they do on their eyes, far more than humans do. For Raditz, the sudden loss of that is extremely disorienting, far more so than the lessening of his other senses – like if you suddenly could barely see or hear. I like playing with the differences between saiyans and humans – the small ones as well as the large ones.
> 
> Also, shy!Raditz is fun to play with – he’s usually completely shameless in my fics, it’s fun getting him all flustered and cute like this.
> 
> Geta likes science-y stuff, remember? He hangs out with Bulma sometimes – generally he has no idea what she’s doing for most of it, but he’s been getting better at math lately as a result of his exposure to her, and can at least check over some of her calculations for numerical correctness.
> 
> Bulma is so much fun to write. I almost always enjoy writing her – she’s so confident and sassy and smart, and she can be such a shit at times, it’s great. And yup, in case you didn’t catch it, Bulma’s still working on the Budokai stage – or at least trying to. ;) And Silf on AO3 – remember that comment of yours on Broken Nest about DNA samples? Yeah, you totally called it. ^^


	2. So You're Sayin'...?

Half an hour later, the engine was completely in pieces, Bulma’s machine had finished its tests, and the men had returned to Bulma’s station to hear the verdict. She was sitting in front of her computer still, her fingers steepled, and spoke without turning to look at them.

“Okay, first off, I want you to keep in mind… there’s always the dragon balls.”

Yamcha whistled. “I’m gonna sit down for this, I recommend you do as well,” he added, turning to Raditz as he sat on the counter. He quickly jumped up again, moved his tail, and sat again, ignoring Geta’s snickers.

“What’s a dragon ball?” Raditz asked, though he remained standing.

“Our back-up plan. Or possibly our first plan.” Bulma bit her lip, staring at the screen. “…maybe our only plan. Okay, here’s how it is. You,” she pointed at Yamcha, “Are apparently a full-blooded saiyan. And you,” she pointed at Raditz, “Seem to be a pure-bred human. And you both always have been.”

There was a moment of disbelieving silence. Then there wasn’t.

“WHAT?!?”

“ _ALWAYS_?!”

“WHAT?!?”

“WHADDAYA MEAN, _ALWAYS_?!”

“WHAT?!?”

“HOW COULD YOU EVEN _KNOW_ THAT?!?”

“WHAT?!?”

The silence returned as the two men’s heads came together rather firmly. As both groaned and rubbed the resulting sore spots, Geta dusted his hands off and turned to Bulma.

“And now, to summarize: the hell, Bulma? And the hell do you have this knowledge?” hopping on the counter next to Yamcha, he made a ‘go on’ gesture. “Proceed, beautiful genius.”

“Thank-you, chief minion Geta.” Spinning on her chair to face them, Bulma sat back, watching to ensure she was being listened to. “Now, to begin with, I have no idea how this happened – the transmuter was purposefully designed to work only on inorganic matter, specifically so shit like this couldn’t happen. It should not have worked – the worst that should have happened was that the iron ore I was using as a base turned into something unstable – that’s why I had Yamcha and Raditz there, so they could destroy it or get rid of it in this event. And I needed both of you there so that if one of you was unable to respond for some reason, the other could, because redundancy is our friend in situations like this. I could have made you two shielding belts, but this is a prototype and, honestly, you two can punch through solid rock with your bare hands and friggin’ _fly_ – I didn’t think it would be an issue.

“However, it was an issue and it did happen, and for that I really am sorry, and I wish I knew why it happened. Possibly science is tired of being my bitch and decided to take out its frustrations on you two, I don’t know. What I _do_ know is that hair is made up mostly of non-living cells, except for the base and roots. That means that, whatever caused this genetic shift in you two, it should only have been these portions of your hair that were affected; that should be the only section displaying the new DNA sequence. However, in both cases, each hair showed the same racial markers for the entire length – all four foot plus in your case,” she noted, pointing to Raditz.

“There’s also the fact that you only _have_ four feet of hair plus change, Raditz – you’ve lost at least a foot each of height and hair both. Neither of these things make sense – humans can have hair that long and the ends show no signs of having been burnt or anything, and humans can also grow that tall, though it’s very rare, and Yamcha hasn’t changed size at all. You with me so far?”

All three men nodded, a little numbly in the case of the species-swapped pair.

“Good,” Bulma nodded back, “Now, the way I see it, we have two options. Option one,” she held up a finger, “I do a shitload of research, call in Capsule Corp’s top scientists and a couple of free-lancers who owe me favours, we figure out exactly what happened , along with how and why it happened, and how to reverse it.

“Option two,” she held up another finger, “We basically assume that this is the result of a higher power meddling in our lives for its own twisted amusement, admit shit be whack, gather the dragon balls, wish you guys normal, and sleep this off like a baaaaaaad hangover.

“Now, given that I don’t really think humanity as a whole is ready for technology that allows you to make physical changes to this extent this easily – and, more importantly, because _I_ have no interest in developing that kind of tech and still need to figure out how to make an unbreakable Budokai stage - and also given that the first option _will_ take years to complete whereas the second option _might_ take a couple months tops, I’m voting we have us an old-fashioned dragon ball hunt. But that’s just me. If you guys would rather-”

“Option two!” Raditz cut in at the same time Yamcha said, “ _Definitely_ option two!”

“It’s decided then!” Bulma stood and stretched (an action Geta most certainly did not watch (at all (not even a little (nope))). “It’ll take a couple days to get things ready – I want to make sure there’s plenty of food for you saiyans in case hunting’s poor where ever we end up, and I am _not_ going to be relegated to dumbass in distress due to not having the right capsules or losing said capsules, so you guys have some time to get stuff together as well. Chief minion Geta, if you would be so good as to go buy me some more strawberries, since these two ate all of mine?”

“Sure thing, Bulma!”

Yamcha caught his elbow as he was passing. “I’ll pay you double the cost of them if you give them to us instead so we can eat them in front of her.”

“Yamcha!”

Geta grinned. “Sorry, Bulma – my loyalty can be bought.”

“Grrr- I’ll pay you triple!”

“Quadruple!”

A few minutes later, Geta strolled off whistling, a couple hundred zenii richer, to buy the world’s most expensive strawberries. Bulma and Yamcha stared after him speculatively.

“Thanks for playing along, Yams.”

“No problem – he really needs to get some proper tiles for his roof, and that’s not happening anytime soon with his prices.”

“Too true. So, what’cha gonna do now? You can both stay here while we’re getting ready for the hunt if you want.” Bulma offered.

Yamcha perked up a bit at this. “I am always up for free room and board.”

“Hmf, free-loader.”

“Hey, you offered,” he grinned, “Besides, the more I can save, the farther the prize money goes. Martial arts are glamorous, not lucrative.”

“You could always get a job – a different job,” Bulma corrected as he raised an eyebrow at her. “Like, maybe a different sport. You enjoy baseball, right?”

The ex-bandit laughed. “Nah, it wouldn’t be fair to the other players. I mean, I can _fly_.”

“True,” Bulma nodded, shutting down her computer and standing up again with another stretch. “What kind of job would you choose, then?”

“One day I’d like to open up my own dojo – get Wolf style up there with Turtle and Crane. If that doesn’t work?” he shrugged. “I dunno, maybe get a job as a cook or something?”

“You can cook?” Raditz asked, surprised.

“Of course, can’t you?”

“I meant cook well,” Raditz rolled his eyes.

“Oh, _much_ better than well,” Yamcha smirked and glanced at Bulma. “Since I’m going to be staying here and probably eating you out of house and home, do you think your mom would be offended if I offered to make supper tonight?”

“Maybe for one night, but I wouldn’t risk two.”

Raditz watched the two banter back and forth a bit, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He’d been on Earth for almost three of their months now, and he’d gotten to know Bulma and Vegeta well enough. Yamcha, on the other hand… he’d spent as much time with him as the others, but the ex-bandit was confusing. He looked like a jewel, but he was a warrior. He admitted that power came to him only with great effort and laughed about it in the same breath. Sometimes he seemed so saiyan that Raditz found himself looking for his tail (and this situation was not going to help that inclination), other times he seemed the alien he was with his gentleness.

Worse, Raditz found himself being drawn in by this gentleness. He had grown up in a harsh universe that had no love for saiyans, and had somehow managed to raise Kakarrot to be fairly decent, if somewhat naïve. (He still wasn’t entirely sure how the naïve part had come about – Raditz had sheltered his brother as best he could, yes, but still…) Anyway, the point was, Raditz wasn’t used to being shown consideration, and here it felt like he had received nothing else. Bulma, offering him employment and praising his skill with machines, something that never would have happened on Vegetasei. Vegeta, explaining everything from what plants were good to eat to how currency on this world worked, asking for nothing in return but stories and information about their dead race.

And Yamcha, who came over just to talk, to fill in the corners that Vegeta didn’t know he was missing, to spar, and to watch Raditz appreciatively when he thought the saiyan wasn’t looking. It was nice.

…and that was a very unsaiyan thought. Saiyans weren’t nice or gentle and they didn’t care what other races thought. Then again, that attitude had gotten them wiped out as a species, which suggested a certain inherent flaw in the philosophy. And it certainly hadn’t worked all that well for Raditz, which was why he’d been forced to abandon it early on. He’d tried sticking to the old ways. The old ways had almost gotten him killed, too. Absent-mindedly he went to run the end of his tail between his fingers, only to be harshly reminded that he didn’t have a tail anymore as his hand closed on air. There was- had been a scar on the end of his tail, starting at the tip and curving up for a good ten inches. While it was long, it wasn’t very wide, and it was completely hidden by the fur there, but he’d never let himself simply forget or ignore its existence. He’d gotten it the first time he was almost killed.

He’d been about eight and a half, and the details weren’t really important. Suffice to say, he’d finally run into someone stronger than him who wasn’t intimidated by the fact that he was saiyan. He’d barely escaped with his life and gotten the ship off the planet, and had had to spend half a day in the regen tank. Even after that, he still hadn’t been fully healed, but it had been enough that he could pilot the ship to another space station to get the supplies he’d been trying to get at the last place. Well, he’d gotten the supplies, but he’d also run into Frieza’s goons and been forced to flee again. In the month it had taken to get a good lead on them, his remaining injuries had healed on their own, and the combined stress of being hunted and caring for Kakarrot, along with no more time for the regen tank, meant that some of the injuries scarred, including the long cut one goon had managed to land on his tail.

The first thing Raditz had done once he’d gotten their lead safely established was set the ship on the recently discovered autopilot and go hide in an out of the way corner that he was far too large for these days, but which he suspected Kakarrot had begun to use when he wanted to be alone. At the time, however, he had still fit, and he had sat there, running a finger over the scar on his tail and weighing his options as one of the last two members of the saiyan race. In that cubbyhole, Raditz had come to the conclusion that he valued his life more than his saiyan pride, and that, since it seemed he could have one or the other, he chose the former.

That decided, he had crawled out of the cubbyhole and into bed with Kakarrot, because his race was dead and he was eight and a half, and scared, and lonely, and he didn’t have to be proud and hide it anymore.

There was no one left who cared.

The scar had become something of a touchstone after that – a reminder why he was doing the right thing in avoiding some fights, in protecting Kakarrot, in using techniques no normal saiyan would ever consider, like flattery, and lies. Lately, the scar had been sitting more lightly on his tail, because no matter how unsaiyan he had become, he was still saiyan enough to teach Vegeta about their people, and it was good to be unsaiyan enough to recognise the luck he’d had in finding this place, these people. His rain luck.

And now that scar was probably gone forever. The thought made him shiver for some reason. Then he shivered again.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He turned to see Yamcha looking at him with a faint expression of concern. “Sorry, we got caught up in ourselves.”

“I’m fine, just a little cold,” Raditz tried to cover up his reactions to his thoughts with a small lie, only to realise he wasn’t lying. It had been warm earlier in the day, but now he felt decidedly chilly. He rubbed his arms. “When did the temperature drop?”

He got a pair of blank looks for his troubles, then Bulma snapped her fingers.

“It’s not the room that’s gotten colder – it’s you! Saiyans put off more heat than humans in my experience and, well,” she shrugged, “You’re human now, so your body temperature’s lower, but you’re used to being warmer, so you’re mind’s registering the change as you being too cold.”

“Oh.” Raditz had noticed that humans felt a bit cool to the touch – not enough to be worrying, barely enough to notice, but apparently enough to make a difference when you _were_ one. Great. He wondered what other fun surprises were waiting for him with this little… experience… “Then why aren’t you cold?”

The other two looked at each other and shrugged. “I’m actually a little warm,” Yamcha admitted.

Bulma swatted him. “Of course you are, you’re saiyan now! I’m fine because _I’m_ my usual species, so my metabolism isn’t sending me any unusual readings. You’ll probably both adjust to it in a couple days. In the meantime, come on, we’ll find you a jacket or a sweater or something – at least you’ll be easier to find clothes for like this.”

“And after supper we can spar!” Yamcha added cheerfully, trailing behind them as they left the lab, “That’ll warm you up!”

Raditz gave him an arch look. “Don’t think you’ll be able to beat me just because you’re saiyan and I’m… not… right now. We kept our power levels for gods know what reason, I’m still stronger than you.”

“So? That’s never stopped us sparring before. Besides, I wanna see just how superior saiyans _really_ are at manipulating ki.” Yamcha’s tail waved back and forth excitedly.

“We’re renowned for it, hu- bandit! We’re born warriors - no one’s better at ki than a saiyan!” Raditz scowled.

Yamcha smirked. “All the more reason for me to learn as much as possible while I have this opportunity.”

“Gee, if you’re enjoying it this much, maybe we should leave you like this and just wish Raditz back to normal,” Bulma teased, “I bet he’d like that – then there’d be **four** saiyans instead of three.”

“I dunno about that,” Yamcha glanced at Raditz, then ran ahead of them so he could walk backwards and watch the other man. “What do you think, do I make a good saiyan?” he flexed and batted his eyes.

Raditz managed not to gulp and instead gazed with a critical eye. “Your hair’s still wavy. Saiyans don’t have wavy hair, only straight.”

Yamcha stuck his tongue out at him. “Oh, bite me.”

He wasn’t sure how he managed it, possibly through supreme effort of will, possibly because he was too shocked to do anything, but for whatever reason, Raditz did _not_ turn bright red. That phrase couldn’t mean the same thing among humans, it _had_ to be a cultural miscommunication, there was no _way_ Yamcha could possibly know what had just offered/asked…

“Don’t tease him, Yams, you know he’s shy,” Bulma admonished her friend, then glanced at Raditz with half-lidded eyes and promptly ignored her own instructions. “Besides, we don’t even know if he swings that way or not.”

Bulma’s comment was meant to provoke a blush, but all she got was confusion. “‘Swings?’ What do you mean by ‘swings?’”

“You know,” Bulma recovered hastily and smirked, “Guys, girls, both, neither – your sexual preferences.”

To her surprise, Raditz smirked right back at her. “My ‘sexual preference’ is the same as any other saiyan’s.”

“Oh? Do tell.” The blue-haired woman purred.

Something in Raditz’s stance changed, and his height was suddenly more noticeable. He looked more confident and moved with a bit of swagger as he leaned over to breathe the answer in Bulma’s ear before sauntering off towards the main house, hands behind his head.

“Wow,” Yamcha gulped, knees a touch watery, “I’ve never seen him like _that_ before – do you think he really knows how hot he is and’s been playing with us or that we’ve been teasing him too much and he’s gotten used to it enough that he’s teasing back?”

“Bit of both, probably,” Bulma said firmly. “He may have been on the run, but he can’t have not seen his own reflection for that _entire_ time, and he’s obviously had _some_ practice at social interaction outside of fighting. Take it from a pro – sometimes you get what you want faster if you put on a bit of a show. Doesn’t cost you anything to let ‘em look.”

“Yeah, but not everyone who’s attractive is as vain as you, Bul.” Yamcha laughed as she swatted at him. “Anyway, what did he say?”

Bulma batted her eyes innocently at him. “What did who say?”

“You know who and you know what.” He glared at her, tail lashing a few times before it drooped and the temporary saiyan slumped. “I kinda like him, Bulma,” he admitted, “Not just because he’s hot as hell, either. I like sparring with him and talking to him and just being around him. And it’d be nice to know ahead of time if it’s worth pursuing or if-” he stopped talking as Bulma put a finger on his lips.

“Calm down, Yams,” she smiled, a genuine one this time. “He’d be lucky to have you – anyone would. Not as lucky as they’d be to have me, of course, but it’d be a close second. But… are you sure you wanna settle down with a guy? You’ve always said you wanted a family, and I thought that included kids.”

Yamcha shrugged. “I do – to the family and the kids. But if I decide to be with another guy, if he’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with… I’m fine with that. More than fine. As for kids, well, there’s always adoption – or I could just steal yours.”

Bulma snorted. “As if I’d risk ruining my figure by having any!”

“You never know,” he grinned at her, “Geta’s pretty cute, after all. Not my type, but I’ve seen you looking-”

“Yamcha!” Bulma swatted her friend, “He _looks_ like he’s sixteen! Now, if he actually looked his age and was a little taller, maybe. But, anyway, in response to your earlier question?” she winked at him. “Apparently a typical saiyan’s response to ‘sexual preference’ is ‘yes please.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn’t say my amusement was ‘twisted’ so much as an acquired taste. ;)
> 
> Geta and Bulma play off of each other well. Yes, they like to argue but they do get along quite well, and can be an effective team when they team up.
> 
> Geta believes in being paid based on how much effort you’ve put into an enterprise, amongst other things. Since hunting dinosaurs and collecting coconuts DOESN’T take much effort for him, he generally undercharges for his produce. This, and the fact that his priorities are a little off sometimes, is one of the reasons his house is often in such ramshackle shape (“I could spring for superior roofing materials… or I could continue to indulge my scientific journal habit…”). Bulma and Yamcha started tag-teaming him like this sometimes in an attempt to ensure his roof doesn’t blow away entirely.
> 
> I’ve used the term jewel a few times now, and I guess it’s time to explain. A ‘jewel’ in saiyan culture, when referring to a saiyan, was someone of either gender who was very physically attractive, but either not very strong or actively weak, and who generally got stronger very slowly, meaning they were going to remain weak. In older times, before Frieza, being a jewel wasn’t always a bad thing – some saiyans preferred to have a jewel for their mate, for various reasons. It was a term that implied the person still had value, even if they lacked strength, and sometimes indicated intellect, as a jewel had to rely on other skills to survive. As the saiyans changed and grew more brutal under Frieza, however, more and more emphasis began being placed on strength, to the exclusion of all else. Calling a warrior a jewel became an insult at this point, and by the time Vegetasei was destroyed, jewels were becoming rarer, because they were no longer being taken as mates, though the phrase ‘pretty enough to be a jewel,’ ironically enough, was still in common use and still considered a compliment. For Raditz it is a term that holds a certain amount of controversy in his head, since he heard it in both positive and negative connotations quite often. Note: jewels are weak by saiyan standards, not human one. By normal human standards, jewels are still mostly terrifying death gods, like all saiyans.
> 
> ‘Bite me’ – Yamcha basically just proposed. Really romantically.
> 
> I always picture saiyans as generally being up for pretty much anything at least once in regards to sex – they are not a shy race. Meaning Raditz is a freak in this universe, ‘cause he’s shy. ;)


	3. Ki, Questions, Road Trip!

A couple hours later, Raditz was in properly fitting clothes with no superfluous holes, Yamcha was cooking supper, and Geta had returned with several cases of strawberries and Kakarrot.

Kakarrot had listened quietly as they explained the situation to him, looked his brother up and down, and chirped out “At least you don’t have to worry about being the pride of the saiyan race anymore!”

Yamcha had walked in on Bulma shrieking about not destroying her living room, Raditz trying to commit fratricide, Kakarrot trying not to _be_ fratricided, and Geta cheering on whichever side seemed to be losing momentum at any given moment.

Half an hour later, Geta was holding down Raditz, Kakarrot was restraining Yamcha, and Bulma was glaring at all of them.

“I’m not happy with you three,” the blue-haired woman said, addressing Geta, Kakarrot, and Raditz, “But I have come to accept that fighting is in your nature and there is nothing I can do about it. You, however,” she pointed at Yamcha, “I expect better of! Start talking!”

“Sorry, Bul,” Yamcha grinned sheepishly from where he was sprawled upside-down on the floor, “I was going to try and stop them, but… it looked like so much fun… so I joined in instead.”

“Why’d you tackle _me_ , then?” Raditz demanded indignantly.

Yamcha shrugged. “You were the bigger challenge.”

“Vegeta’s here, too!”

“I wanted to _fight_ , not get flattened.”

“Well, you certainly went native quickly enough.” Bulma glowered at her friend.

He grinned at her, unrepentant. “Supper’s getting cold. That’s why I came in in the first place – I was going to tell you it was finished. Kakarrot, stop sniffing me, it’s weird.”

“Sorry,” the short boy moved back and let Yamcha sit up, “But you smell funny.”

“Of course I do, I’ve changed species – I’d be surprised if I didn’t smell different.”

“No, not that, something else.” Kakarrot frowned, perplexed. “It’s familiar, but I can’t quite-”

“Figure it out later, right now – food!” Geta interrupted. “Nobody told me _Yamcha_ was cooking! Come on, this is gonna be great!” grabbing Kakarrot, he headed off towards the kitchen.

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

Raditz and Yamcha didn’t end up sparring that night, but they did the next day. While Bulma organised her capsules and got things straight with her work, Geta dismantled various snares and informed his friends in the village that he was going on an adventure, and Mrs. Briefs gained a life-long devotee by having Kakarrot test new meat pastry recipes for her, the two species-swapped men warmed up on the beach near Geta’s house.

“So,” Yamcha finished off and grinned, “Why don’t you show me how this ki stuff is done?”

Raditz snorted. “I don’t know why you need me to show you. You can fly and sense ki, and your power level’s amazing for a human. What could you need to learn?”

“Ki blasts.”

Raditz’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Those are _easy_ – you barely need a power level of a hundred to do those, let alone over a thousand!”

“Shut up!” Yamcha looked away, embarrassed. “I’ve been working on them, okay? But I’m not good at it – I’m better at using ki for physical stuff, like increasing my speed. I can summon enough ki to maybe make my hands glow a little – that’s it; I can’t even get it to fire. I’m not a natural at all this either, remember?”

Raditz wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t the most talented warrior in the universe, but he’d been using ki as long as he could remember. A wave of uncertainty swept over him as he stared at his own hands. Would that skill still be there, now that he was human? Experimentally, he attempted to summon a ball of ki in one hand. To his relief, it formed. Then he frowned. It was smaller than he’d intended. Closing his eyes, Raditz focussed on the flow of his ki, how he drew it in, shaped it, something he hadn’t really thought about since he’d first learned to manipulate ki as a brat. Now, with his newly-developed ability to sense energy… it was fascinating, the way the ki moved and reacted. Suddenly he understood why Vegeta had come up with so many flashy yet completely useless techniques, like the one where he made strings of energy between his fingers, tangling and twisting them around. On a whim, he ‘rolled’ his blast up onto the tip of one finger, then back to his palm, before he allowed it to dissipate.

Behind him came an appreciative whistle. He turned, suddenly remembering that he had an audience. He coughed. “See? It’s easy. Now you try.”

Yamcha nodded, tilting his head to the side and looking at his own hands contemplatively. He’d been paying close attention as Raditz had done his demonstration, and… he wasn’t sure why, but it was as though it all made a lot more sense all of a sudden. Ki wasn’t something you had to struggle against, you just had to-

The usually-human man yelped as his right hand suddenly lit up like a light bulb. The ki dissipated as his concentration snapped, but he continued to stare at his hand. “ _Kami_ , that was-! I’ve never been able to gather so much-! It was so _easy_!” his head snapped up as he refocused on Raditz. “Is it always that easy for you?”

The other man shrugged. “Couldn’t say. It seems to take a little more focus to use ki as a human, more… precision? But being able to sense the ki seems to help.”

“Show me,” Yamcha demanded eagerly, tail waving back and forth in excitement, “I want to learn as much as possible before I change back!”

“Why not stay saiyan?”

“What?”

“Why not stay saiyan?” Raditz repeated, curious, “You’ll be able to use ki more easily, be more durable, and probably gain strength faster. Why go back to being human?”

Yamcha stared at him contemplatively for a long moment, then said, “I guess… it’s because I still am human, in here.” He put a hand on his chest, “Jumping into the fight last night instead of stopping it notwithstanding, I’m still human on the inside. The same as you’re still saiyan on the inside - even if you did only have three pancakes for breakfast this morning.”

Raditz frowned at this reminder – how humans survived with such small appetites he didn’t know, but he was sure it was a factor in their low power levels. The pancakes had tasted different this morning, surprisingly, subtly better than they had last time he’d tried them – the same went for the bread at supper last night. If that was how those foods normally tasted to humans, no wonder they ate them so often.

But, food aside, part of him understood what the bandit was getting at. Raditz was well-versed in considering his options at this point, and he’d had plenty of time to think the night before while he tried to get comfortable without a tail draping over one leg and with his hair far too soft. Why not stay human? Kakarrot could read human minds, so they’d still be able to talk like that, and he didn’t need to _be_ saiyan to tell Vegeta about their culture. He’d fit in better on this planet, and if anyone came looking for him and Kakarrot, they’d never suspect he had once been a different species – it was the perfect cover. And it wasn’t like he’d be letting his race down – he’d probably have never amounted to much more than third class, anyway, and, besides, they were all dead. Well, except for Kakarrot and Vegeta, and neither of them would probably care if he stayed human or not, as long as he was happy. So there was no one to disappoint.

Except himself.

He didn’t _want_ to stay human. Beyond the lost height and lack of tail and weirdly fine hair, there was an indescribable something, a slight wrongness he could feel deep in his bones. And, while he could probably get used to the first three, he doubted the last would ever completely go away – not as long as he was human.

So instead of making a snide comment, he simply nodded. He also ignored the small bit of him that had been relieved when Yamcha had said he didn’t want to stay saiyan, on the grounds that it was ridiculous, since more saiyans was obviously better.

They spent the next hour honing Yamcha’s ki manipulation, swiftly covering lessons that might otherwise have taken months of intensive study to master without ki sensing or saiyan instincts. Then they spent another three hours beating each other to a pulp. Well, Yamcha to a pulp – Raditz felt less compelled to pull his punches against a ‘fellow saiyan’ and saw no reason to take extra damage himself if he wasn’t going to get a power boost from it. Still, it was a fairly bruised and battered **pair** who staggered back to the Frag to use the medical facilities before having lunch. And if they were both laughing like idiots as they tripped over roots and bumped into trees on their way through the jungle, having been a bit too enthusiastic with ki attacks to make flying really viable, well, there was no one there to see them and thus no way to prove that they had, now was there?

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

Four days later, Raditz had declared human hair insane, willfully tangling at the slightest provocation, and had had Bulma show him how to braid his, as this seemed to be the only plausible way to maintain its length until he became saiyan again. He’d also been experimenting with his ki. A flying spaceship was a poor location for developing interesting or powerful ki attacks, so Raditz didn’t have many of his own. Ki _techniques_ , yes, things that were useful if you were living on a spaceship on the run, and he’d picked up a few rather good attacks over the years by watching fights or, in a few instances, having them flung at him. And there had been the data disc with the precious False Moon technique Father had invented on it. Sometimes he would summon the orb of lunar energy in his hand, when they were out in space and he was feeling the pinch of loneliness for others of his kind beyond his brother. He’d always dismissed it, rather than throwing it up and activating it (and he wasn’t even sure that would have worked with the low ceilings of the spaceship), but while he held it, he felt closer to his father, and his lost race.

Now, though, was a good time to hone his ki skills, while he had to work harder and be more precise with them. Sometimes the victor of a fight was determined by who used their ki the most efficiently.

Or who had the cooler attack. He’d been brainstorming some ideas for those as well.

While Raditz was happy to meditate and focus on his ki, Yamcha had been getting antsy, and threw himself into physical training as he waited for Bulma to finish her preparations. He wanted to leave _now_ , **_yesterday_** , be out there looking for new adventures and fights – especially fights. _Kami_ , he wished the Budokai or something similar was on…

But, finally, everything was ready, the day of departure arrived, and Bulma handed out cases of specially-selected capsules.

“I’m going for redundancy this time,” she explained, “I’ve lost capsules while I was on adventures before, and I don’t want to deal with that this time – I refuse to be a fifth wheel simply because the capsule holding all my tools got dropped in a river! So, everyone’s getting a case of them. Almost everyone,” she amended when Geta held out his hand.

“Hey!” the flame-haired saiyan folded his arms, tail lashing, “I’m the strongest one here, _and_ I have the best track record with capsules-!”

“Which is why you’re getting a different set,” Bulma interrupted, “Genius, remember? I took all that into account. The rest of us are getting identical cases of capsules, you’re getting the case holding stuff I can’t bring more than one of, like emergency funds, official documentation, medical supplies, that kind of stuff.”

“Oh. Okay.” Mollified, Geta accepted the proffered case and stuck deep into one of the pockets of his shorts, zipping it shut afterwards.

“Right! Now that that’s done,” Bulma pulled on an old pilot’s helmet and a set of aviator’s goggles, zipping up the wind-proof jacket she had on, “Let’s go find us some dragon balls!”

The men (and Kakarrot) could all fly faster than most of Bulma’s usual planes, and she didn’t want to take a jet, so it had been decided that Geta and Raditz would alternate carrying her for the most part, with a plane in reserve if they grew tired or the weather was bad. Now, handing the dragon radar to Yamcha, Bulma climbed onto Raditz’s back and pointed forward dramatically. “Let’s do this thing!”

With cheers of approval, the group rose into the air and headed for the first glowing dot on the radar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned that I like playing with the subtle differences between human and saiyan? ‘cause I really do. Saiyans are supposed to be really amazing with ki compared to other races, so it makes sense to me that if you suddenly became saiyan and already knew how to use ki, you’d suddenly find it easier. Yeah, short notes on this one – not much to say, said it all in the chapter. ;)


	4. What do you mean I'm-?

“You know, I’ve read about snow before – I always thought it would be really neat to experience it one day.”

“And now that you have?”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Did anyone see where the dragon ball went? Seriously, I did not just nearly die in an avalanche only to lose the damn ball!”

“Don’t get your tail in a twist, bandit – Kakarrot says he has it.”

“Well, at least _that’s_ -”

“He also thinks he’s running out of air, so digging him out would be appreciated.”

“SHIT!”

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

“Well,” Bulma stated, walking out of the bathroom with her hair in a towel, “That was exciting.”

It had been a week since they set out, and nearly two since the whole fiasco began. The first dragon ball had been easy – they’d found the five-star ball lodged in a tree about fifty miles from Capsule Corp. The second one had been a three-day flight away and well-hidden in a snowy, mountainous region. After four days of searching, they’d found the four-star ball frozen in a wall of ice. The ice had been easy enough to break – the problem was that it turned out to have been a load-bearing support for what looked like half the snow on the mountain. They’d managed to avoid most of it – and grab that one hiker out of the path of the oncoming wall of frozen death – and had gotten away scot-free. Well, all of them except Kakarrot, who had dived headfirst into the snow after the dragon ball. It was fortunate that saiyans could communicate telepathically. And hold their breath a long time.

Now they were all warming up in one of Bulma’s capsule houses. Of them all, Bulma was handling the cold the best, as it was only in the past year or so that Geta had ever been farther than twenty-five miles or so from the tropical jungle where he lived, Raditz and Kakarrot were from a desert planet and built to handle heat well, and Yamcha had lived most of his life in the desert, and was thus simply used to it.

Needless to say, the menfolk were not appreciating the cold.

Actually, Bulma was starting to worry about Yamcha, and so was Geta. The ex-bandit was generally pretty even-tempered and optimistic. Certain things upset him, but he was usually a good-natured individual. In the past week, however, he’d been growing more and more irritable, snapping at people more often, and full of nervous energy. Most evenings he sparred with one or more of the other martial artists, and even now, after a long day of high activity, he was outside shadow-boxing in the snow, while Kakarrot thawed out in the tub and Raditz and Geta hid under a mound of blankets in the living room.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the door outside opened and Yamcha staggered in, panting hard, face red from the exertion and cold. Stripping off his coat and boots, he stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed in it face-first, back to the room, tail twitching slightly.

A few moments later, the door to the bathroom opened, releasing a cloud of steam and a dripping but cheerful Kakarrot, who was still holding the four-star dragon ball. He hadn’t let go of it since he’d found it, excited at having been the one to secure the treasure.

Bulma grinned at the boy, momentarily distracted from her old friend. “Seeing that ball brings back memories – it once belonged to a man named Son Gohan. I met him when I first went looking for the dragon balls.”

“That’s how you met Yamcha, right?” the boy asked happily.

“Yup! Speaking of whom, Yams, you wanna go take a shower or something – wash off that sweat and stink before supper?”

A half-hearted growl came from the couch, but other than his tail continuing to twitch, Yamcha didn’t move. It wasn’t anything unusual, but the image finally unlocked the memories Kakarrot had been struggling with for two weeks.

“Oh! That’s it!” the youngest saiyan’s eyes went wide and his face lit up.

“What’s it?” Raditz grumbled from under the blanket mound.

“That scent on Yamcha I’ve been trying to figure out – seeing him lying down like that reminded me!” Kakarrot beamed. “He smells like _you_ , Raditz!”

“… _what_?”

“No I don’t!”

“Well, no, not exactly,” the saiyan boy amended, “I mean, like Raditz did a few years ago – you know, when all you wanted to do was eat, sleep, and train?”

There was a moment of dead silence. Then Raditz sat up, flinging the blankets off himself and Geta, who yelped and, with a complicated motion, managed to be back under them again before they hit the floor.

Ignoring his prince, Raditz strode to the couch and flipped Yamcha over. The ex-bandit scowled up at him. “ **What**?!”

“How old are you?”

Yamcha blinked, confusion leeching some of the grumpiness from his features. “…what?”

“How old are you?” Raditz repeated insistently, adding, “It’s important.”

Yamcha frowned, then shrugged. “I’m almost twenty. Why?”

“Shiiiiit…” Raditz breathed, “That’s going to add a whole new level of challenge to all this…”

Geta’s head popped out from under the blankets, expression shocked. “You don’t mean-”

“‘fraid so.”

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with me?” Yamcha sat up, face slightly pale, anger forgotten.

“You’re hitting your second spurt,” Raditz responded grimly, “Technically your first, since you weren’t saiyan then the first would have happened.”

“My second- what are you talking about?!”

“Oh, right, you weren’t here when we had this explanation.” Bulma sashayed over to the couch and leaned over the back of it to wrap her arms around Yamcha’s shoulders. “Congratulations, Yams – you’ve started alien puberty!”

“… ** _WHAT_**?!?”

Yamcha listened in growing horror as Raditz explained. “You’re lucky in a way – the second spurt only takes two to three months, you grow less, and the aggressive urges are toned down. And you should be human again before you get too far into it.

“On the positive side, your ki increases as well, and if changing back works the same as the initial transformation, you should get to keep the higher power level.”

“…wonderful,” Yamcha groaned, burying his face in his hands, “You know, when I said I hoped to be stronger than Krillin one day, this wasn’t how I wanted to do it.”

“I don’t get why you’re upset – you’re gonna get taller!” Kakarrot chirped enthusiastically.

Yamcha’s voice leaked from between his fingers, only slightly muffled, “Kid, I get that you’re three feet tall, and probably won’t understand this, but I’m actually good with the height I am. And I’ve only just finished _human_ puberty – I was looking forward to being over that!” Bulma made consoling noises and ran her fingers through his hair. After a moment Yamcha leaned into her touch. “Feels nice…” he let his hands fall and his eyes close and, a moment later, a light rumbling started emanating from his chest.

Bulma blinked, then started to giggle. The ex-bandit cracked one eye open to give her a baleful look. “What now?”

“Nothing,” she smirked at him, “You’re just cute when you purr.”

“When I-?” Yamcha’s expression grew confused for a moment before he made the connection between the safe, warm feeling that was vibrating in his chest and the noise that had started echoing in his ears. Which apparently everyone else could hear, too. His other eye snapped open, he went bright red, and the purring halted mid-rumble.

Raditz snorted at the ex-bandit’s expression and sat down beside him. “Keep rubbing his head, woman, he needs it, he’s stressed.”

“No I do- oh. Oh~” Yamcha attempted to protest, only to groan as Bulma cheerfully started playing with his hair again, and then go boneless as Raditz joined in, running his fingers around on Yamcha’s scalp. What had he been talking about again…?

Bulma laughed as Yamcha went limp and started to purr again, an expression of absolute bliss on his face. “How did you know that would calm him down?”

“He’s saiyan right now,” Raditz’s voice was soft, “And this is one of the things grooming is for – soothing, comforting.”

Glancing at him, Bulma grinned at Raditz’s expression. Looked like Yamcha wasn’t the only one who was… interested. Raditz turned to frown at her as she did this.

“Is that funny to you?”

“No, no,” she waved him off, straightening up, “It’s just weird seeing you with your hair all smooth. And Yamcha’s being adorable, which is something he tends to resist being whenever possible. He’s kinda shit at it, though.” Smiling at the two of them, she sauntered off towards the kitchen. “Keep him occupied, I’ll go program the bots to make supper.”

Raditz frowned after her, suspicious. Then Yamcha flopped onto his shoulder, expression still blissful, and Raditz decided he could figure it out later.

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

The silhouette radiated power and menace, and the voice that came from it was icy cold.

“Give me the dragon balls, little man, before I crush you like the pest you are.”

“Take them, take them!” the short man squeaked as one of the figure’s hands began to glow with power, revealing merciless black eyes. Scrabbling under his bed, he thrust out the one- and six-star balls out with trembling hands. They were plucked up with nimble fingers.

“Glad you could see it my way. Be good now- or I’ll be in touch.”

After the figure had disappeared out the window – which, the small man might mention, looked out over a perfectly smooth fifty foot wall, which itself was on a cliff overlooking the sea – the small man collapsed back on his bed. A moment later, the door opened and two figures peeked in.

“Emperor Pilaf, are you alright? We heard voices.”

“Mai, Shu, I think it’s time for us to get out of the dragon ball game,” the would-be ruler of the world announced, “It’s getting too full of crazy people!”

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

Bulma managed to hold her laughter in until they were too far away to be overheard, then cracked up. “Oh kami, that was _beautiful_! I thought Pilaf was going to wet himself!” she slapped Raditz’s should as she laughed. “That was _priceless_!”

“I wouldn’t have thought you could be so scary, Geta,” Kakarrot said admiringly.

“They call it his ‘murder face’ at the dojo,” Yamcha commented, flying loops around the group, trying to burn off his growing aggression with physical exertion. It was getting harder, though his power level did indeed seem to be going up, a little at a time, as the ache in his bones increased, which was rather gratifying.

“They do!” Geta was flying on his back, holding the balls he’d gotten up to the light of the waxing moon to admire them. “They tell me I make it when I focus on doing kata too hard. I wonder how whoever made these got the stars in…”

“Magic, probably,” Yamcha replied.

“I can accept that.”

“What, just like that?” Raditz glanced down at the should-be prince.

Geta stared back up at him and raised an eyebrow. “We’re collecting mystical orbs of legend that summon a wish-granting dragon. Why wouldn’t I accept it?”

“Fair enough. How far to the next ball?”

The three-star ball had been in a junk shop in West Penguin Village, so Bulma had walked in, haggled a price, and walked out again with the dragon ball and a new bracelet. With the ones they’d gotten from Pilaf, that left the two- and seven-star balls, and thank kami it seemed to be going quickly, because Yamcha, for one, really didn’t want to know how much worse a ‘second spurt’ could get. Much more and they might just have to leave him in the woods somewhere until they had all the balls, because he wouldn’t be fit for civilized company…

“About eighty miles,” Bulma announced, consulting the radar. “If you guys want to land, I can get the plane out and you can get a rest while I fly it.”

“How about we fly a little longer, then set up camp for the night?” Raditz suggested, “I can go a bit farther, especially if you fly with Vegeta for awhile, and I think those three are too energetic to sleep at the moment.” His statement was met with two cheerful affirmations and a frustrated growl from Yamcha. “Right, then.”

The group halted for a moment, and Raditz carefully handed Bulma to Geta after the shorter man stowed the newly-acquired dragon balls in one of his pockets and fastened it shut.

“You’re lucky you haven’t had your second spurt yet,” Raditz commented as he helped Bulma settle on Geta’s back in mid-air, “Or this would have the potential to be awkward.”

“Why?” Geta glanced at him over his shoulder.

“The base of the tail gets a bit more sensitive after it.”

“That doesn’t sound too-”

“The _fun_ kind of sensitive,” Raditz reiterated with a lewd grin, “The kind that might make her wriggling around back there… awkward. Like I said.”

Geta turned bright red while Kakarrot looked confused and Bulma giggled.

“So,” the blue-haired woman said, tone conspiratorial, “This sensitive area, just how big is-”

“I _swear_ , Bulma, I will drop you!”

“ _Right_ where the tail joins the back.”

“ ** _Dammit_** , Raditz!”

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

They ended up camping near a river in a lightly forested area for the night. Bulma set up a capsule house, but decided a campfire would be nice.

“The moonlight, the sound of the river, the scent of the smoke, very romantic,” she explained when asked why she, Bulma, self-proclaimed city girl, would want to do this, “Besides, I got a bit more used to ‘roughing it’ when I was looking for that non-existent meteor with Geta.”

All four males gave the capsule house behind them a significant look, and Bulma blushed.

“I said ‘used to it,’ not that I liked it!” she sputtered, “Though… I do miss the campfires sometimes. I liked that bit, sitting around the campfire, swapping stories, even if Geta _did_ make most of his up. So I thought it might be fun to do that tonight, since we’re in a good location for it. But if no one wants to-”

“No, it sounds fun,” Geta interrupted, “I liked that part of our adventure, too. And there _was_ a meteor, it just turned out to be a spaceship instead of a rock!” he paused for a moment, then laughed. “Come to think of it, that radar of yours actually worked – after all, you found _me_ with it, and I was the main part!”

Bulma brightened up at this. “I guess it did, didn’t it?”

“Meteor?” Kakarrot asked curiously, “What meteor?”

“Help us build a campfire and I’ll tell you,” Bulma grinned.

So they did, and Bulma and Geta told the story of how they met.

“So I throw the damn thing and out of the tree comes this weird half-naked guy-”

“ **No** proper survival gear _whatsoever-_ ”

“Complete disregard for maidenly propriety-”

“And then she fell off the rock-”

“Oh kami, the waterfall…”

“Oh **kami** , the waterfall…”

“-a freaking _spaceship_ in his house-”

“-‘no such thing as aliens’-”…

Kakarrot ended up falling asleep hallway through, and Geta offered to take him inside. Bulma glanced at where Yamcha and Raditz were sitting next to each other, smiled knowingly, and followed them, saying she wanted a shower. Raditz was happy to let them go. It was… nice, sitting here like this. The fire was warm and seemed to have mellowed Yamcha out more effectively than anything they’d found so far other than grooming – he’d have to remember this when Kakarrot hit _his_ spurt – and the ex-bandit had unwound enough to lean against Raditz’s shoulder, eyes half-closed, staring at the fire and purring quietly. Raditz grinned at that – the bandit probably didn’t even realise he was doing it. Yamcha was doing relatively well with the physical changes he’d undergone – he’d even managed to gain some control over his tail – but the purring embarrassed him for some reason. It was endearing.

Also a good opportunity for a little payback for that time he’d reduced Raditz to a puddle on the beach after Kakarrot wove burrs in his hair…

Moving gently, he got his arm around the other man and began threading his fingers through his hair. Yamcha gave a little hum of pleasure and leaned into Raditz as the purring grew louder. Raditz chuckled softly, and Yamcha rolled his head over to look at him, eyes half-lidded and smoky. Abruptly, Raditz’s hand stopped moving and he became very, very aware of how close they were.

Yamcha gave a lazy grin. “ **Still** a flawless ten.”

Then he leaned over and kissed him.

Raditz’s brain shut down for a moment. When it came mostly back online, his arms were full of ex-bandit, he had a tail wrapped around his upper thigh, and he was in the middle of really a very nice kiss. His brain came fully back online when Yamcha broke the kiss off and began to nuzzle his neck. Somehow he got his hands on Yamcha’s shoulders, mustered his internal strength, and managed to push the other man back, steeling himself against the hurt look Yamcha’s face.

“Raditz? I… Sorry- I- Don’t you-?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But not like this,” Raditz stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. “Not when we’re… not ourselves.”

Yamcha bit his lip but nodded, scooting backwards. “It’s the smart thing to do.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Being responsible sucks.”

“It really does.”

A moment later, Yamcha got up and headed for the river. A moment after that, Raditz followed him.

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

Kakarrot started a bit from his heavy doze as he heard a pair of splashes. “Wha’ wsss tha’?” he slurred, still more than half asleep.

“If I’m right, it was Yamcha and your brother having a quick dip in the river,” Bulma answered quietly from where she was sitting next to him on the couch.

Kakarrot frowned. “Di’n’ Geta say i’ was ice col’?”

“He did.”

That was even more confusing, but he was still mostly asleep, and staying awake was _hard_ , but he managed to get out one last question. “ ‘n why…?”

Bulma laughed and fondly ruffled his hair. It was too much, and the young saiyan succumbed once again to sleep, too quickly to hear Bulma say, “I’ll have Raditz tell you when you’re older.”

A short while later, the older brother in question came in, soaked and shivering, and went straight to the bathroom. A few minutes after that, Bulma heard footsteps approach then halt, and opened the door to see Yamcha sitting on the doorsteps, head in his hands, tail around his waist, and a puddle forming around him.

“Hey, Yams.” She went and sat a step above him so she wouldn’t get wet. “You know, traditionally you take your clothes _off_ before you go skinny-dipping.”

“That would have made the entire situation infinitely worse,” he groaned, not looking at her, “Bul, I just got _finished_ being full of hormones! It was great! I could think straight in the presence of attractive people without having to work at it! I didn’t want to go through it _again_!”

“I know; I’m sorry.”

Yamcha turned his face even further away, but she could still see his ears and they, at least, were bright red. “…I kissed him…”

Bulma inched closer. “Really? Do tell!”

“We were sitting together by the fire, and he was finger-combing my hair, and… I dunno. He was so _there_ , and he just smelt so _good_. I mean, I’d noticed different people had different scents before, vaguely, even before this whole incident, but now it’s like, if a person’s within ten feet of me, I can smell them like we were in each other’s faces.”

“Ew.” Bulma wrinkled her nose and Yamcha shrugged a little.

“It’s not as bad as you’d think. More just another way to tell that they’re there.”

“Mmm,” Bulma hummed non-committedly. “So, back on the important part, you kissed him and… what? He said he wasn’t interested?”

“No,” a glimmer of a smile was visible between his fingers, “He said he wasn’t sure – that he wanted to wait until we were both our proper species again before finding out.”

“That’s reasonable, good even.” Bulma tilted her head, then snorted at herself – she’d been hanging out with too many saiyans lately, she was picking up their body language. “So, why are you upset?”

“Because I was going to wait,” Yamcha groaned, finally looking at her, “Until he’d settled down more, gotten used to not being on the run for his life. Give him time to adjust before jumping on him, you know? Then I get full of hormones and I’m crawling all over him!”

“You haven’t been ‘crawling all over him,’” Bulma admonished, giving his shoulder a friendly punch, “You might wish you were, but you haven’t been. Stop worrying so much – it’ll work out, you’ll see.”

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

In the bathroom, Raditz was cursing to himself and carefully undoing his braid so he could dry his hair, having already stripped out of his wet clothes. He had forgotten about this bit of the second spurt – that it involved coming to full physical and _sexual_ maturity. The possibility for sex and reproduction came with the first spurt. The desire came with the second. Usually it worked well – you could learn what was going on without the nagging urge to go try it out. Humans, from what Bulma had said when they first talked about saiyan growth spurts, got the desire and the capability all at once, and it led to all sorts of issues. And technically, having been a fully mature human male, Yamcha should have been used to this sort of thing, having done it once already, and it shouldn’t have been much of a problem.

Except… dammit, the hu- the _bandit_ hadn’t been expecting this influx of hormones, so he must have been caught off guard. Raditz should have warned him except – double damn it! – he’d forgotten. This… hadn’t been an issue for him – he’d spent nearly the entirety of the two-month process eating, sleeping, and shadow-boxing. The bits he hadn’t been doing those things had been taken up by the day-to-day activities of a hunted fugitive, and there had been no one on board to be sexually attracted _to_ except Kakarrot. Which, no.

Just no.

And he couldn’t entirely blame Yamcha for what had happened, even if he didn’t give the human any slack over hormones, because the bandit hadn’t been the only one participating in that kiss. Because before gender or looks, saiyans valued strength in a mate, and Yamcha was already an impressive specimen for a human. And now, growing as he was… When done properly, saiyan growth spurts were something like one long, constant state of zenkai, the body harming itself with the speed of the growth but healing almost as quickly. Thus your power level went up exponentially during the process. Raditz himself gained power relatively slowly through zenkai, the cycle of injury and healing which was the secret to the saiyans’ great strength – which was really annoying, especially since otherwise he would probably have come out of his own first spurt with a reading near what father’s had been. Yamcha, however, seemed to be benefitting far more from the process – it had only been about two weeks, and already he’d almost caught up with Raditz, and who knew how much farther he’d go if he waited the spurt out? And the bandit had _already_ been attractive, strength-wise…

Shaking his head, he forcibly ended that line of thought for the moment. The man was also a couple inches taller. Raditz didn’t know if anyone else had noticed it, but he most certainly had. It was the first time he’d really had to look up to anyone in a bit more than two years now. It was… odd. Seeing the bandit’s hair in strangely wavy saiyan spikes was also odd. It had the smooth stiffness of saiyan hair, too, not the odd softness he remembered from when Yamcha had let him feel it that time, for comparison-

Growling – or at least giving the pitiful excuse for a growl that was the best human vocal cords could manage – Raditz finished toweling his hair to reasonable dryness and pulled on his semi-dry clothes again. Yamcha wasn’t the only one having problems with his damned hormones. But he was shivering rather badly now – useless human metabolism! – and paused in his dressing for a moment, considering the idea of having a bath or shower to warm up. It was quickly dismissed – he’d just spent a lot of effort getting dry, he didn’t want to turn around and get all wet again.

After doing a quick ki scan to make sure he wouldn’t encounter anyone, he slipped out of the bathroom and to the room that had been designated as ‘his’ for the trip, and from there to the mound of blankets on his bed. He was really looking forward to not being cold all the time. There were nice things about being human – it was convenient to not need to spent quite so much time eating, even if he did complain about his lack of appetite, and it had been kind of fun to walk down the streets of that one town and blend in perfectly, rather than sticking out like a sore thumb, like he usually did. Still… he and Yamcha were of one mind when it came to looking forward to returning to their individual species.

He drifted off to sleep, and almost certainly did not dream about a particular scar-faced bandit, his hair soft and his scent unmistakeably human, kissing him in the smoky light of a campfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! And that’s why Yamcha smells funny right now!
> 
> I still maintain that my amusement is not twisted, merely an acquired taste.
> 
> One of the things that bugs me sometimes in fics is when get situations like the one Raditz and Yamcha are in: unusual circumstances, both feeling at least somewhat aroused and attracted to each other, but both also in circumstances where they aren’t necessarily in possession of their full mental facilities. And the couple always ends up having sex or as good as because, dude, HORMONES TRUMP ALL, IS LAW. Except, no, it isn’t. People who are sexually active and interested are capable of controlling themselves, resisting temptation, saying no, doing the smart thing for the situation. We rule our hormones, not the other way around, and I’m tired of seeing scenarios where this concept is undermined for the sake of a quick sex scene. I have no problem with sex scenes – check out my M-rated stuff if you don’t believe me – I just wanna be able to enjoy it without having it lead to six chapters of angst and conflict afterwards.


	5. The Tooth is...

Breakfast the next morning was fairly subdued, with Raditz and Yamcha both stealing awkward glances at each other and generally being unsure how to behave after the previous night’s interactions.

This lasted until Yamcha bit into an apple and winced. “Ow! Sonuva-”

He made a face like he was moving something around in his mouth, then spat out a tooth. All other activity around the table abruptly halted as everyone stared at the small white lump sitting on the ex-bandit’s plate.

“ ** _Ew_** , Yamcha! That was disgusting!” Bulma wrinkled her nose and he scowled back at her.

“Hey, it’s not my fault it started to hurt – it feels like it doesn’t fit properly anymore!”

They were interrupted before they could get any further into their fight.

“Raditz,” Geta breathed, looking a little pale, “Is that _normal_ for a second spurt?”

“Are _all_ his teeth gonna fall out?” Kakarrot added with an extremely concerned expression, “Are _our_ teeth gonna fall out when we hit our second spurts?!”

Geta, not being very far away from this prospect himself, turned a little green.

“No! I- I never _heard_ of anything like this-!” Raditz stared at the tooth in complete shock. This was _beyond_ simply forgetting a bit of information, this sort of thing _didn’t happen_. Abruptly, all three males turned to look at Yamcha with varying levels of horror. The former bandit and Bulma stared back at them for a moment, glanced at each other… and burst into peals of laughter.

“Guys, I think they’ve lost their minds,” Geta muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Bulma was already a lost cause, but this is new for Yamcha. Obviously that tooth was what was holding his sanity in – check and see which one it is, that sort of information’s important.”

“It’s not that,” Yamcha chuckled, wiping his eyes, “It’s- oh kami,” he giggled, “It’s not real!”

“ _What_?!” the other three males stared at him.

“It’s a false tooth,” Bulma explained, snickering, “He lost the real one back when we first met.”

“Because you hit me in the head with a chair!”

“You were trying to steal the dragon balls!”

“Hell yes I was – bandit, remember!”

“Well bandits should know better than to assault delicate blossoms of femininity!”

“First of all, at the time I didn’t know you were even in the room – if I had, I never would have gone in! Second, ‘delicate blossom of femininity’ my ass! More like-”

“Why were you guys together again?” Geta interrupted.

The two looked at each other, then at the group.

“She was the first girl I wasn’t scared of.”

“He was _smokin’_ hot.”

“…I know I’m not the most experienced guy when it comes to these matters,” Geta said slowly, “But that seems kinda incredibly shallow.”

“Oh, it totally was,” Bulma grinned, “But we were young and I was boy crazy and Yamcha was scared of girls. And it was fun for awhile. We just make better friends than significant others.”

“We really do,” Yamcha gave a half smile, exposing his missing left canine. Then he looked at the false tooth on his plate with a sigh. “I guess this means I really am growing, and not just sore for no reason.”

“You’ve gained at least two inches since the incident,” Raditz confirmed, “And your hair’s growing as well.”

“Wonderful, just what I-” Yamcha was interrupted by his own stomach, which let out a loud growl. He groaned and pocketed the false tooth. “I’d better finish breakfast before my stomach implodes. Kami, I never want to be this hungry _again_!”

Thus breakfast was resumed, though the exchange had apparently broken the ice that had been forming between the long-haired duo of the group as a result of the previous night’s awkwardness. A few covert glances were stolen, but, as glances of this type had been happening _before_ the campfire situation as well, nothing really came of it, and soon enough the house was re-encapsulated and the group was setting off to find the last two dragon balls.

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

“You said it was in this direction!”

“It _was_ in that direction – now it’s in _this_ direction!”

“Maybe you should check the radar better.”

“I’m hungry!”

“Shut up, Kakarrot! And maybe you guys should fly faster!”

“It’s hard to build up momentum when you have to change directions every five minutes! And maybe the radar’s glitching.”

“ARE YOU SAYING _MY_ TECH MIGHT BE _FAULTY_?!?”

“Um, I’m hungry, too?”

“Shut up, Yamcha! And I’m just saying that maybe being over the ocean is messing with the sensors or something!”

“As if I wouldn’t have thought to account for that while designing it!”

“Actually, if they’re hungry, Kakarrot and Yamcha should eat – Kakarrot’s young and Yamcha’s growing, they both need to keep their strength up.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Raditz, I appreciate it so much.”

“You’re welcome, bandit.”

“Argh, _fine_ , Yamcha, go show Kakarrot how to catch fish – you’re making me tired just watching you, anyway!”

“Hey, I’m full of energy, grumpy as fuck, and have nothing better to do – might as well train!”

“Just go!”

“Fine! Come on, Kakarrot, we’ll leave them to their flirting.”

“WE ARE NOT FLIRTING!!!”  
“Actually, in saiyan culture-”

“SHUT UP, RADITZ!”

“…I can’t do anything to Vegeta, but _you_ I could easily drop, woman.”

“ _Oh_ , as if Geta would let me fall!”

“Right now I might – you’re being obnoxious.”

“Why you-”

“So, Raditz, you and Yamcha gonna settle down and have lots of kids?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, do you _want_ kids?”

“That’s beside the point! And even ignoring the issue of being different species, we’re both male!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“…”

“…”

“…Geta, did anyone ever sit down and explain the facts of life to you?”

“Not that I remember, no.”

“…”

“…”

“… **you** get to explain it to him.”

“What? Why do _I_ have to?!”

“You’re always explaining things!”

“Well, you’re always showing off how much you know!”

“He’s _your_ prince!”

“You’ve known him longer!”

“You’re both guys _and_ the same species!”

“Not at the moment we aren’t!”

“…though, come to think of it, I may have _read_ several books on the subject matter.”

“…”

“…”

“…GETA, YOU LITTLE SHIT-”

“Hi guys, what’cha shouting about?”

“Geta’s being- holy fuck, that’s a mermaid!”

“Hmph! A fine ‘how do you do’ to you, too!”

“Sorry about that, don’t mind Bulma, she’s a little surpriseable at times. My name’s Geta, pleased to meet you! I’ve never met a mermaid before!”

“Pleased to meet you as well – my name’s Pie-Pie.”

“Like on your shirt?”

“Exactly!”

“That’s convenient.”

“Excuse me for interrupting, but _why_ did you two decide to bring a mermaid up here?”

“She said she’d never seen the sky up close before!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. So the little one offered to show me.”

“Oh. …so, what do you think?”

“Nice. Kinda dry. Anyway, that wasn’t the main reason I agreed to come up.”

“Why’d you come, then?”

“I got separated from my shoal – we were on our way to a school reunion – and I can’t find them, and I can’t remember which direction Esther Island is in. These boys said you’d help me in exchange for this.”

“Oh. Oh! So that’s wha- I mean, you had a dragon ball in your shirt!”

“Yup. I saw you looking – and you too, tall, dark, and silent. Bet you were wondering why I had three, weren’t you?”

“I was not!”

“Oh, and now you’re blushing! Oh, you’re **adorable** – you and wavy-hair are going to be so cute together!”

“ _What did you tell_ -”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t need to, sweetie; I’m a mermaid – we can always tell. Oh, and now you’re **both** blushing! Super cute!”

“Just- just give us the ball and we’ll take you to Esther Island.”

“Hey, whatever you say.”

 

**OoOoOoOoO**

 

They had spent three days tracking down the mermaid’s dragon ball, and another getting her to Esther Island. The other mermaids had greeted all of them enthusiastically, some wearing rather less than Pie-Pie, a fact that left the cheeks of both adult males red, Geta looking vaguely pink, Bulma huffing, and Kakarrot demanding why everyone kept trying to cover his eyes, they were just boobs.

Waving goodbye, Bulma had pulled down her goggles, activated the dragon radar, and directed them off towards the seven star ball, which was another two day flight, though fortunately in the general direction of Geta’s village and West City.

“Why didn’t we get this one earlier?” Yamcha grumbled as they flew, “We’d have had them all by now!”

“The plan was to make it so we weren’t too far from home after we’d made out wish,” Bulma replied, shrugging. “I figured we’d be ready to be back by this point.”

“Hn, just pray it doesn’t take too long to acquire this one,” Raditz grunted.

“Why? Tired of being human?” Bulma teased.

“Yes. But that’s not the main reason.”

“Then what is?” Geta asked, flipping over so he could look up at the taller man.

“Heh, surprised it didn’t occur to any of you,” Raditz smirked, “The full moon’s the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh crap, you’re right!” Geta frowned. “Dangit, I’m usually more aware of the lunar cycles than that, right Yamcha? Yamcha?” Turning around, he saw the ex-bandit was hanging in mid-air behind them, expression slightly glazed. “YAMCHA!”

At the shout, the ex-bandit shook his head and caught up with the group. “Sorry about that. I got caught up in just how much I **don’t** want to experience the Oozaru form.”

“Eh, it’s not that bad,” Geta shrugged, “The worst bit is not being able to do anything all night because you might break something important.”

Yamcha scowled at him. “No, that’s _your_ version of Oozaru as a result of brain damage! A _normal_ untrained Oozaru is a wild, rampaging _beast_ , remember?!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Also, geez, touchy much? If you don’t want to transform, just stay out of the moonlight. And I think it is universally understood by this point that I have umbrellas in case of emergencies.”

Yamcha growled in response. His temper had been growing steadily worse as he got farther and farther into freaking _alien puberty_ , and it was a job and a half to not go ballistic when the smallest things seemed to be setting him off. As they got closer to this final destination, however, his mood began picking up a bit, and not just because the ordeal was nearly over. Indeed, as the scenery flowing below them slowly turned desertous, Kakarrot and Raditz seemed to growing more relaxed as well, and even Geta was looking around curiously.

“It’s not as good as the jungle, of course,” he admitted, “But I think I like deserts. It feels kinda homey.”

“Now that you mention it, it looks a bit familiar,” Bulma frowned, studying the landscape, “I’d swear I’ve been here before.”

For his part, Yamcha was grinning practically from ear to ear. “That’s because you have – look!” he pointed to a rock formation up ahead. Bulma squinted – she thought she could see writing on it, but she wasn’t sure.

“What’s ‘Kung Pao’ mean?” Geta asked curiously.

Yamcha somehow grinned wider. “It means we’re home in time for supper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that Yamcha loses a tooth in his early fight with Goku and it stays lost is something I love about that initial DB arc, and it is fully my headcanon that Yamcha wears a false tooth afterwards (at least until he has his first senzu – then it probably grows back (he’s never even heard of senzu in this world, though, so it’s still missing)). Also, hello Pie-Pie, have a cameo (readers, give yourselves five points if you know where she’s from)!
> 
> Heh, sorry, Yamcha – I’ve been being kinda mean to you in this one, so here’s something nice, okay? Also, I had fun with the scene that was pure dialogue – could you tell who was who when they were talking? ;) (also, don’t worry, not going to be making a habit of scenes like this)


	6. Mostly Back to Normal

Yamcha touched down in front of Kung Pao Rock, then spun to face the group, throwing his arms out in display, pleasure overwhelming the aggression for the time being. “Welcome to my humble lair!”

“ _This_ is your bandit lair? It’s **huge**!” Kakarrot did a quick circuit of the house nee rock formation.

“Holy _shit_ , Yams – _this_ is where you live?!” Bulma looked it over in surprise. Raditz gave her a curious look.

“You’ve never been here before?”

“No!”

“Only Pu’ar has,” Yamcha slapped the rock fondly, “It’s our place. And I don’t formally live here anymore, but… eh, I come here from time to time, to do upkeep or work out a new Wolf Fang move. Pu’ar only comes out sometimes, when city life gets to be too much for her.”

“So, when were you going to show it to us?” Bulma crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t.” Yamcha’s expression grew a little wistful as he looked up at his long-time home. “Like I said, it’s _our_ place – mine and Pu’ar’s. No one else’s. I’ll have to let her know you guys have seen it; hope she’s not too upset…”

“Why show it to us at all if it’s so private?” Geta asked curiously. He understood about secret places – Bulma had been the first person he’d ever shown his nest to, and he’d worried about it for several weeks before he did it. This revelation seemed surprisingly spur-of-the-moment for something so secret.

Yamcha grinned again. “It was a little unavoidable.” Rising into the air, he circled the rock a few times before halting in front of the large ‘Kung Pao’ sign carved into the rock. Chuckling, he reached into the center of the ‘o’ – which, when examined closely, appeared to have some fracture lines originating from the center that didn’t look very natural – and pulled out-

“The last dragon ball!” Kakarrot cheered.

“And not a moment too soon, with the full moon tomorrow!” Yamcha agreed, landing in front of them, holding out the seven-star dragon ball. The others drew out the balls they had been carrying without prompting – the one- and six-star from Geta’s pockets, the four-star from Kakarrot, the two-star from Raditz, and the three and five-star from Bulma. She had insisted they share the balls between them in the event that another dragon ball hunter attempted to steal them. Now the balls sat on the sand, their glow all but obscured by the desert sun.

Bulma glanced at the others. “So, who wants to do the honours?”

“You do it,” Yamcha stated, “You started it, you end it.”

“Yeah, none of us know how to summon the dragon, anyway,” Geta added, though he was looking at the balls curiously; Kakarrot was as well. Raditz, however, appeared antsy, and if he’d had a tail, it would have been twitching.

Bulma raised an eyebrow at him. “Having second thoughts?”

“Not the type you’re thinking of,” Raditz looked away, “More- if these balls can grant any wish… wouldn’t it be better to wish our people back? Give them another chance…”

Yamcha went and put a hand on Raditz’s shoulder while the blue-haired woman bit her lip before explaining. “The dragon balls… aren’t all-powerful. They have certain limits, and one is that they can’t bring anyone back to life who’s been dead for more than a year. I’m sorry.”

Raditz closed his eyes but nodded. “I had to ask.” He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again and punching Yamcha in the shoulder, “Right then, let’s get changed before we do this; I don’t want my return to the saiyan race to involve holding up shredded clothes.”

Yamcha shrugged. “Okay, if you really want to, we can change inside.”

Raditz frowned, puzzled, as Yamcha began to head to the doorway. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Yamcha paused, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, didn’t we tell you? Nudity makes you stronger on this planet.”

Raditz’s expression went blank. “That is the single most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“No, really, why do you think Geta runs around dressed like that?” Yamcha protested cheerfully, “He’s taking advantage of it!”

“I’ve been here for _five months_ and I have _bathed_ in that time – I _know_ you are lying! Dagore’s _teeth_ , I’d know you were lying even if I hadn’t! How **_stupid_** would you have to be-”

Their voices grew muffled as they went inside. A few moments later they returned, Yamcha walking a little oddly due to his tail being stuffed down one pants leg and Raditz freeing the last of his hair from its braid.

“Okay, everyone ready?” at the affirmative answers she received, Bulma grinned. “Okay then, let’s do this! **Eternal Dragon, rise up and grant our wish!** ”

Raditz, Geta, and Kakarrot had been told what to expect with the summoning, but no spoken words or even pictures could ever have been enough to prepare someone to actually see Shenlong appear for the first time.

“I AM SHENLONG, THE ETERNAL DRAGON. REFLECT ON YOUR DESIRES, FOR I SHALL GRANT ANY **ONE** WISH THAT IT IS IN MY POWER TO GRANT!”

“ **Shenlong!** ” Bulma called out, pointing to Yamcha and Raditz, “ **Return these two men to their original species in the way they’ll most benefit from!** ”

Shenlong’s eyes glowed brightly for a moment, and Yamcha and Raditz were surrounded by a nimbus of golden light.

“YOUR WISH IS GRANTED. FARE YOU WELL.”

The dragon vanished, and the dragon balls rose into the air and scattered, leaving behind two humans and three saiyans.

“It worked!” Yamcha laughed, looking over his shoulder to make sure his tail was indeed gone and catching a glance at his hair as he did so. “Holy shit, my hair was _not_ that long a month ago!” A bit past his shoulders when the switch was initially made, his hair was now midway down his back.

“Must be the human equivalent of hair growth for how much it grew while you were saiyan,” Geta commented, “What do you think Rad-itz… …huh. Was _not_ expecting that.”

“What?” Raditz looked up from checking his tail over to see everyone else staring at him, including Yamcha.

Who was still several inches taller than him.

And Raditz’s clothes were still feeling _awfully_ loose.

“I… guess it was to your benefit to be shorter?” Geta said uncertainly.

There was silence for a moment. Then Raditz chuckled, running the end of his tail between his fingers and feeling the familiar scar there. It felt like he’d had a blanket muffling his senses for the past month, and now it was finally gone and he could properly _feel_ everything again. “You know, it’s almost a relief. I’m not used to things going well or smoothly – at least I’m saiyan again; I think I can survive with being a bit shorter.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure I can get used to being taller than you – it’s still pretty weird,” Yamcha teased, bending down a little to look the other man directly in the eye.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to,” Kakarrot said cheerfully before Raditz could respond.

“What?” the two men were suddenly fully focused on the boy, who looked up from where he’d been examining the base of Kung Pao Rock.

“Well he’s not going to be that height for long,” Kakarrot said matter-of-factly, “I mean, now _he_ smells like growing again. Which is silly, because he’s already done that twice, but he does.”

“I… wow. I don’t see how that happened with the way I worded the wish,” Bulma said, looking a little baffled while Raditz went pale. “I spent an hour thinking about how we should word it when we finally got to this point. An _hour_. **_Me_**.”

“Actually, it makes total sense,” Geta responded before anyone else could, “I mean, they both retained their power levels again, which is a big benefit to Yamcha, since he’s gone up a lot recently. And Yams is a martial artist, so strength is important for him, and with the way he’s developing his style, a longer reach will be to his benefit, so he’s kept the height he gained, and he didn’t hit the widening-out part of the growth spurt, so he’s still streamlined for speed.

“I’d also be willing to bet that all that refining of his ki abilities that Raditz has been doing has stayed with Raditz, too. Also, Raditz is saiyan, and he says power is really important to saiyans, and the growth spurts are the key time a saiyan gains strength due to being in a constant state of zenkai. And since you’ve got the resources and leisure to do it properly this time, not to mention a higher base power level, you should get way more out of this spurt than you did with the first two.” Geta’s smile was bright, “So basically, you’re both getting a power-up out of this. Pretty simple when you think about it.”

While the other males gaped at Geta, Bulma’s look was more speculative. “You do this on purpose, don’t you? Act all naïve jungle-boy, to lull people into a false sense of security, then go all intellectual on them.”

“I _am_ a naïve jungle-boy, though,” Geta protested, “I just happen to be a very well-read naïve jungle-boy.”

“Which still leaves the fact that I’m about to repeat my second spurt!” Raditz interrupted, finally coming out of his horrified stupor enough to speak. “I take back what I said about bad luck being comfortably familiar, this is too familiar!”

“Look at it this way,” Yamcha slung an arm around the other man’s shoulders, “Maybe this is the last of the bad luck using itself up all in one go, and it’ll be smooth sailing from here out.”

Raditz gave him a slightly morose look. “What’s ‘sailing?’”

The ex-bandit laughed, a little rueful. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know what-” he was interrupted by Raditz’s stomach, which let out a huge growl. The once-again saiyan rolled his eyes.

“And so it begins.”

Everyone laughed at that, and Yamcha gestured at them to follow him inside. “C’mon, let’s get out of the sun, and I’ll make us all some supper.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

Yamcha was sitting at an outside café table in West City, drinking a cup of tea when a pair of hands covered his eyes. “Guess who!”

He grinned not bothering to turn around. “Hey, Pu’ar, how’s it going?”

A giggle accompanied a familiar popping sound, and a small blue cat floated around to hover beside him. “You always guess!”

“You’re the only one who does that to me,” he caught his old friend up in a hug. “You look good! How’s Chae?”

“She’s doing well – we’re thinking about moving in together. How about you? Still pining after that new guy you were telling me about?”

Yamcha winced. “Eh, it’s a little complicated. He’s got some stuff to get through first. You tell me your news first.”

So Pu’ar floated around to the other chair and sat down, and the two friends spent most of the afternoon catching up, first Pu’ar talking about her work as a bodyguard and Chae’s photography, then moving on to Yamcha’s adventures during the past month.

“And the last one was in Kung Pao Rock – literally, it was in the center of the ‘o;’ it must have crashed into it and lodged there the last time someone made a wish,” he laughed, then fell silent. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “They’ve been there now. To Kung Pao, I mean. They were with me at the time, and I couldn’t exactly _not_ take them or-” he stopped as Pu’ar put a paw on his hand.

“It’s okay, Yamcha. We’re not kids anymore – Kung Pao isn’t our secret lair. I’ll admit, I’m a little sad that that’s how it is, but… we’re growing up. I’ve got a job and a girlfriend, and you’re one of the top eight martial artists in the world! And it wouldn’t have been ‘just ours’ forever, anyway – someone else would have found it eventually. I’m glad those someone elses were your friends.”

Yamcha blinked. “You’re taking this awfully calmly – which is good! – I just… thought you’d be a little more upset.”

Pu’ar laughed. “Life is change, Yamcha, and I should know!” with a little puff of smoke, she changed into a young man with blue-grey hair and stuck his tongue out at his friend, then changed back. “Besides, now that _you’ve_ shown someone, I can take Chae there sometime! I know she’ll go wild over the scenery there!”

Yamcha laughed as well. “What did I ever do to get a friend like you?”

“I think it was how you showed me just how tough I could be once I stopped crying. That or your shrimp stir-fry.”

“It was probably the stir-fry.”

“Probably.”

They exchanged a wicked smirk, desert bandits conspiring over their next mark again, if only for a moment. Then Pu’ar couldn’t keep a straight face any longer, and the moment was gone.

“So, did anything else happen after you found the last ball, or was that it?”

Yamcha chuckled. “Well, that was it for me. Raditz, on the other hand…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love DBZ Abridged? I freaking love DBZ Abridged, it is the best thing, given the slightest bit of encouragement I will quote it until I run out, and stick references to it wherever I can without compromising the integrity of the story.
> 
> One of my universal headcanons is that Kung Pao Rock is Yamcha’s place, with Diablo Desert being his territory even when he stops being a bandit, and that, as mentioned, even if he doesn’t live in either anymore, he still goes back from time to time to do proper upkeep on it and make sure no one’s ‘poaching’ on his territory – clear out all the lesser bandits and stuff that may have shown up.
> 
> Geta, stop that, stop expositioning, that’s Yamcha and Raditz’s thing, quit stealing their thing. That said, by the time Raditz finishes his third spurt, he and Yamcha’ll both be around 3500-4000 power level wise, just to give a relative idea of their numbers (I plan on them remaining pretty even strength-wise in this universe). I’m actually okay with the height Yamcha is normally, but it felt kinda mean to make him suffer through growing that much and then erasing it on him. He is now 6’4” tall, and will remain so for the rest of this series, making him actually taller than Tien by two inches in a bizarre twist. Raditz will regain his regular in-universe height of 7’0”.


End file.
